Sick Day
by TriStateCopFan
Summary: A very short piece: Bobby's POV when Alex calls in sick, followed by Alex's POV after Bobby visits and takes care of her.
1. Chapter 1

1**A/N: Don't own 'em – never will. Thanks Mr. Wolf.**

**Sick Day**

I sat at my desk, trying to concentrate on a file. My mind kept wandering — something — a nondescript feeling nagging at the back of my brain. It wasn't until the Captain arrived later in the morning that I realized the source of my distraction.

Deakins was in a good mood for a Monday, grateful to be back at the office following the bureaucratic boredom of his monthly meeting at City Hall. He walked into the Squad Room at his usual "all business" pace and breezed past my desk — _our_ desks — with a 'hello' and a simple question: "Where's your better half?" And that's when it hit me. My 'distraction' was you.

"She, umm, called in sick," I answered him, not even realizing that I had already begun making a mental list of the perfect ways we balance each other:

"Male - Female

Big - Small

Gentle - Tough — how did such a little lady _get_ so tough?

Analytical vs. Gut instincts

I fly off the handle - You 'ground' me

Stumble - Catch me

Impatient - Patient

Good cop - 'Bad cop' — I love when we play..."

"Goren!" Deakins' voice interrupted the beginning of what could have been an _excellent_ daydream.

I grabbed the files from my desk and my portfolio, making a mental note: "I'll call you at lunch time to make sure you're okay and to see if you need anything from the drug store. I'll stop by the deli after work and bring you chicken soup and take care of you tonight, 'cause the Captain was right. You are my 'better half.' Only _you_ make me feel whole. Please don't call in sick again tomorrow."

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

1**A/N: For PrincessLena and Bringirl2001, who wanted it to continue...**

**Chapter Two**

_**The Best Remedy of All**_

She couldn't keep the smile from crossing her lips as she snuggled farther down into the warmth of the flannel sheets and fuzzy blanket that Bobby had put on her bed. In all their years together, she had never witnessed him being so attentive – so doting. It was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

When he had called during his lunch hour from the Duane Reade Pharmacy down the street from One PP, she didn't have the heart to tell him that he had awoken her from a much needed nap. She assured him that she would be fine, but the tiredness in her voice – only made to sound worse by her scratchy throat and sniffling – betrayed her.

She answered her doorbell at 6:00 p.m. to find him – arms laden with his purchases. He was happy to see her, smiling when she opened the door, but upon seeing her fevered look, her watery eyes and her cute pixie nose –now red and sore from too much blowing, his look quickly changed to one of concern.

"You should be in bed," was the first thing he said as he made his way to the living room, placing the packages on the coffee table.

"I've been going back and forth between bed and the sofa all day – they both feel germy," I complained. "What'cha got there?"

He began emptying the contents: Kleenex with Aloe, Vicks, Bayer Aspirin, Nyquil, a Bottle of Vitamin C, Robitussin Cough Drops, a thermometer. You had thought of everything, as usual. I couldn't help but smile.

As you unpacked the second bag, you told me to sit on the couch and keep warm under the blanket. You went to the kitchen for a spoon and a napkin and opened the steaming hot container of chicken soup, accompanied by a buttered roll. You went back to the kitchen and brought me a glass of water, so I could take my aspirins and vitamin.

As I ate, you told me about your mundane day. You didn't have to say that you missed me. I saw it in your face – in your eyes.

When you stood up, I thought you were going to use the bathroom but, instead, you went to my linen closet and began poking around.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting clean sheets. Y-yo-you said you felt 'germy'," he said with one of his breathy chuckles.

Despite my protests, you found my lavender flannel sheets– my favorites, and the fuzziest, coziest blanket I own.

I warned you about catching my germs as you settled in on the sofa next to me. You didn't care.

You stayed and visited. We watched Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune — and when you answered every question and solved every puzzle before the contestants ever had a chance, it wasn't because you were 'showing off' – it was just because you could.

At 8:00 o'clock, you told me I should go to bed and get plenty of rest. You kissed my forehead good-night and waited outside my door until you heard the dead-bolt latch.

So, here I am at 8:05 p.m., laying in the warm comfort of my clean, germ-free bed. The orange glow of the bathroom nightlight is casting a cozy glow upon the room.

My last thought before drifting off to sleep is "I can't wait to get back to work tomorrow."

It's not the medicine or the soup or the sheets that are making me feel the way I do right now. It's because I have you as my partner.

THE END


End file.
